An Especially Eventful Spurs Game

How close did I come to death?

Twenty seconds left on the shot clock, and the San Antonio Spurs are up by twenty one points against the Los Angeles Lakers. I stand there, holding up my boomsticks, my throat on fire, after an intense fourth quarter to secure the Spurs success. That buzzer sounds, and I grab my dad and make way for the escalator, because I know that when the drunken crowds begin their rampage for the doors, my likelihood of making it out of the AT&T center alive dwindle to an almost nothing. Well, they are the first obstacle. How many more will encounter before I reached the car?

After careful, strategic maneuvering, I'm slowly riding down the escalator at a leasurly pace, discussing the events of the game with my dad, when from behind me I hear some men talking about a guy in a beige hat and how "he was going to get what he had coming". Naturally curious, my intuitive mind led me to seek out this mystery man, and I saw him 20 feet away, just getting off. Keeping a watchful eye, I noticed him get pulled aside by a tall, Hispanic, tatted up man wearing a Lakers jersey. Around me, you can feel the tension rising, and the two alcohol soaked men are spitting in each others faces in fury. Such hatred exchanged between two strangers makes me sad, but then I realize that it is just the drunken rage playing its part on these young men. Anyways, looking into their faces shows me that this verbal fight will soon escalate into something much more than just words. As I turn away, a large gasp erupts from the crowd, and looking back I see fists flying and the makings of a horrible fight ensuing. I chuckle at the stupidity of young men, and make a remark about using this distraction to get out before the traffic starts. As we head towards the exit, I look back to see the a truly horrifying sight. The man in the Lakers jersey has a knife, and now people are running away instead of recording on their phones. Fat police officers waddle towards the scene, and my line of sight is broken as scared people swarm towards me.

After a successful escape from the building, my father and I are walking along, talking about the security at the game, and I am making connections between the security here and at the Boston bombing. As we walk with the crowds towards the parking lot, I begin to look at the people around me. I enjoy seeing people, wondering what their lives must be like outside of these brief interactions I have with them, and judging them. I see a tall man, with a Lakers shirt tucked into his front pocket. "Why would he do that?" I ask myself, curious to see the motivation behind an act like this. I look up, and stare into his face as I see the same man with the knife from the fight earlier. "I thought the police had arrived!" I thought to myself, and kept looking at this gangster looking hoodlum with the shank from earlier. Then, he looked at me. He saw my recognition of his identity, and he came over to me. My eyes drop, and I move closer to my dad. He leans down and whispers in my ear, "What the f**k were you talking about boy?", and I respond by saying nothing. He asks again, and grabs my shoulder, and as I look at his hand I see blood covering it, now on my nice jacket. He asks a third time, and I say the first thing that comes to my mind, which sadly is the Boston bombing. He stares at me, breathing his alcohol ridden breath in my innocent face, and then he runs away into the parking lot. My dad, oblivious the whole time, leans down to ask me what happened, and I as he runs off I tell my father of my close call with death.

Author's Note

So, there are a lot of things wrong with this, like the fact that its way too chronological and too stiff for a good story, but I felt like telling it. Please, comment with kind words and constructive criticism, cause I would like to know how I can improve my storytelling.

Thanks guys!

Reviews

[Brokenshards]

It was one of those stories that I had to read several times to get the full effect. I know you said it was too chronological but I had no problem with that. I like the use of first person point of view- it keeps the piece moving along. My suggestion is that you maybe break up the paragraphs so that they aren't as long because they can be daunting to the reader and can tire the eyes. Just a suggestion.

[Tomahawk Joe]

I liked the use of first person in the story gives it a sense of urgency and intensity